Chapter 3 #2
I'm so caught up in staring at the empty room where Burn just was that I almost don't hear anyone approaching until Clive and my Uncle Felix are almost on top of me. I flinch when my uncle reaches out, grasping my shoulder with a steel grip.
"Hey," he says.
He and Clive circle around me. Clive is dressed in a black tux with tails, my uncle in a green leather jacket and dark slacks.
At age sixty, he still dresses like a much younger man.
His age is written on his face in the creases bracketing his mouth and shadowed hollows under his eyes.
I look at the two men, scowling to cover my reaction to their sudden presence.
"Ah. There you are," I say, feeling stupid. "I didn't hear you coming down the hall."
Clive just bows his head, as close and silent as always.
He’s been with my family since before I was born.
He is tall, thin as a whip, always seems resolute, and his face remains as unlined as I remember it being as a boy.
Everything about him is tightly wound and well-polished.
He's old school as far as butlers go, and I appreciate that about him.
Felix, on the other hand, is downright chatty. He claps me on the back of the shoulder and smiles grimly. "This old manor plays tricks on your perception. At least, it does to me. It always has, ever since I was a little boy."
I glance at Felix, taking in his silvery hair and his gaunt face. He has the same probing blue green eyes that mark him as a Morgan, the same blue green eyes that I share with Remy, Burn, and my father.
I suck in a breath and release it. "Yeah, well.
When I take over the family business, I'll move the Morgan Oil headquarters away from this damn town.
We should be doing all our business in New York City.
When Remy finally passes away, I will take Clive here and move the whole operation to fancier digs.
" I pause, looking around the house dubiously.
"Good riddance to bad garbage, if you ask me. "
Clive’s expression tenses for a moment. I gesture to him. "No offense. You keep this house perfectly well maintained. But I want to see you tackle a new challenge, perhaps a penthouse with a view of Manhattan. Doesn't that sound exciting?"
Felix licks one of his canine teeth, glancing at Clive. "The kid’s got a point of view. At least we can give him that, huh?"
Clive frowns. "Indeed," he says.
He bows his head and spins, crisply tapping his heels to gather before he starts down the hallway. I can never tell if I've just offended Clive or if he is just busy running this sprawling household. Felix notices me watching Clive and gives me a knowing look.
"Don't worry about Clive. He is on our side. He knows that one day soon, Remy will finally kick the bucket, and he also knows where his bread will be best buttered. I've talked to Clive at length about our plans to expand. He is definitely amenable."
I jerk my head toward the front of the house, a small sigh on my lips. "Speaking of our plans, we should talk."
"The presentation went poorly,” Felix says.
I shake my head and press my lips together. "No, it did not go well. Basically, everything bad that could happen did happen. Remy asked that spineless accountant for his recommendation on the project. And as we anticipated, the accountant shut down the idea of deep sea drilling."
"It’s all as I expected." Felix reaches the front door and pulls it open, stepping back to hold the door for me. I step through it and suddenly wish for a coat. A sea breeze blows straight through my clothes, but I repress the shudder that follows.
I continue the conversation where we left off.
"He's shortsighted. The whole damn family is downright myopic. And when the oil and gas run out in twenty years, everyone is going to be asking themselves why they didn't start drilling in the ocean before. It's a sad reality."
As he walks across the driveway and into the grass, Felix nods, crosses his arms, and coughs. The entire property is fenced in and his gaze roves around the grass, his lips pursing.
"My father is many things," he says. "First among his most awful qualities is that he’s a miserable, money loving old fool.
He drove my mother and three other wives to their graves.
He has been through a slew of advisors and accountants.
But he's almost eighty-eight years old. He is definitely on his way out of this world, one way or another.
Billionaire or not, nobody lives forever.
So when it comes to thinking of the future for our company, for our whole freaking country that is so dependent on gas and oil, we can't be looking to Remy for advice on what to do. He is not looking to the future."
I nod slowly. Sneaking a glance at Felix, I purse my lips. "Remy has made some mistakes."
A snort bursts from Felix’s nose. "Mistakes?
Ha!" He shakes his head, a dark chuckle emerging from his throat.
“That old fucker cut me off without so much as a warning.
I'm lucky to be getting my allowance of one hundred thousand dollars per year.
We all know that Remy is loaded. And yet, he refuses to share his wealth with his own son. "
His expression is intense and bitter. I glance off into the distance, my footsteps wandering toward the edge of the cliff overlooking the town of Harwicke.
It is true that Remy did cut Felix off from his one time inheritance.
Felix is older than my father and the rightful heir—or he would be if he were not an inveterate gambler.
Though I wasn't around when he was cut off, I always want to keep in mind the fact that Felix is the opposite of risk-averse. Not the best thing to have in a business partner. But that's for another time, perhaps.
Do I actually care for my uncle in the way that family should? No, I definitely do not. In fact, I find him generally distasteful. But I need him, until this whole deep sea drilling mess has been sorted.
I stifle any retorts for now.
Instead, I stare out at Harwicke, watching the town from afar.
From this distance, I can just make out the landmark buildings as the land slopes down to meet the sea.
I see several boats at the busy harbor and a few cars on a long stretch of highway approaching the town.
The people of Harwicke are busy, and they have no idea that I am standing here, plotting to shape their futures.
After all, when I move the company’s headquarters from this little know-nothing town, it will likely die.
The Morgan family supports all the sports teams, gives to the local hospital, and generally has a hand in every piece of charity pie that goes on around here.
Without the family, the town will inevitably fall into decay and die a slow, suffocating death.
Too bad that Harwicke became so reliant on the Morgan billions.
"Dare!" Felix prompts me.
Drawn out of my thoughts, I turn to him.
"You know our deal," I say to Felix. "You are going to help me get the deep sea drilling deal off the ground. And in return, I will personally guarantee the return of your share of the inheritance when I take the reins of the company."
"Yes, yes." Felix flicks his hands out, waving away the discussion. "We've talked about it so many times now that I can't be bothered with another discussion. We both know exactly what we have to do."
I give him a sidelong glance. "Very true.
I expect you to continue with the plan to get the mineral rights for the coast of Maine.
We're going to need them. Morgan Oil may not be ready, but the future is coming faster than we realize.
If we have to, I will execute a hostile takeover and drive Remy out of the company.
We will be in the deep sea drilling business, whether Morgan Oil knows that or not. "
Felix nods in agreement. "I'll talk to the people and see what we need to do to keep moving forward with the deal."
"You do that." I walk away from him, sauntering again toward the overlook, my thoughts drifting as I imagine how different this scene will look ten years in the future.